


She bruises coughs, she splutters pistol shots

by RavensandWritingDesks2714



Series: Relief and Understanding [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Beauregard Lionett Has Issues, Beauregard Lionett's Backstory, Campaign 2 Episode 4 spoilers, Campaign 2 Episode 92 Spoilers, Dairon is a Badass, Dairon uses She/They pronouns interchangeably and that is reflected in this fic, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, In this house we stan one Marisha Ray, Other, Thoreau Lionett is an Asshole, this episode destroyed me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22429498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavensandWritingDesks2714/pseuds/RavensandWritingDesks2714
Summary: "Are you listening now?""Do I have a choice?"Or, Beauregard is not what Dairon had been expecting.Or, a closer look at Beauregard and Dairon's first meeting, now through the lens of Episode 92 and Beau's backstory.
Relationships: Dairon & Beauregard Lionett
Series: Relief and Understanding [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1577107
Comments: 6
Kudos: 130





	She bruises coughs, she splutters pistol shots

Beauregard is not quite what Dairon had been expecting upon first meeting. Dairon isn’t entirely sure what they had been expecting from Beauregard; a vulgar and brash youth, disrespectful and unrepentant and unmatched by any in the Cobalt Soul who would try to tame that spirit in her. Beauregard is all of those things, to be sure, and yet, Dairon is struck by just how much the girl is reminiscent of their own willful nature when they were that age and lost.

The girl needs a purpose, like Dairon had needed. And needs a mentor willing to meet her challenges with their own. Someone unafraid to teach her discipline.

The girl meets Dairon’s eyes with a confidence and a swagger that is as bold as the blue of her robes and sharp as the blue in her eyes. There is bluster and charm and throughout Dairon’s explanation of just what it is that they do as an Expositor for the Soul, they can tell that the derision is perhaps a touch too forceful. The curl of her lip is too high, the tension in her shoulders too tight. The mockery, however, is all genuine, and Dairon sees that her initial path to getting the girl’s attention is no longer viable. Beauregard did not strike her as the type to get her point across through words alone, anyway.

The blow, when she gives it, is measured. Precise. Controlled.

The way Beauregard goes to the ground is another type of precision, entirely. Dairon knows her abilities, knows her strength. While a blow like that would certainly have dropped an enemy if her intent had been there, for one such as Beauregard it was merely a course correction. Enough to turn the head and nothing more.

And yet the way the girl drops is…measured. Precise, if not precisely executed. The way the tension sits in her body is wrong, lowered. As if the moment she had picked up on the shifting of Dairon’s weight, Beauregard had prepared herself for submission.

There is a pause as Dairon considers this, then immediately sets it aside for a later thought as the girl lifts her head to glance up at her from the floor. She is not getting up, Dairon notes, and in fact, the tension in her body is still strange, her posture all wrong for a fight. Her eyes, when they skirt across Dairon’s face, do not focus on Dairon’s eyes. She is waiting, Dairon realizes, though for what, they are not entirely sure.

“Are you listening now?” They ask, calm. Controlled.

“Do I have a _choice_?” The girl replies, and her voice is. Soft. There is a tremble in her tone that had not been there, a waver in the word ‘choice’ as if.

Waiting.

She still has not gotten up, and there is a sharp feeling in Dairon’s gut as they realize that Beauregard is waiting for them to hit her again, to strike her while down. It is not the way of the Cobalt Soul and yet.

Dairon shifts their weight back imperceptibly, lowers their head and their eyes for just a moment, as if contemplating Beauregard’s words. In a way, they are, turning them over and over again and trying to decipher the meaning behind them. That is all it takes for the girl to rise, slowly, chin still down and head turned just so in something almost like deference if it weren’t for that wrong tension still thrumming throughout her body and.

Is this what listening looks like to her?

Slowly, Beauregard lets her eyes slip to the side, slip _up_ , until she is once more looking into Dairon’s own. There is a scrutiny there, and an uncertainty, and Dairon softens their own posture ever so slightly.

“Let me be your teacher.”

It is a request, this time, and not an expectation. Dairon isn’t certain, but, gauging the girl’s reaction to the simple blow…she doesn’t think she’d take well to a demand directly after.

The girl chuckles once, lifts a hand to run almost pointedly through her hair. “Oh boy,” she drawls out, still a touch too quiet. “Is that what I have to look forward to?”

She is sarcastic, but shaken, and there is a wariness to her body language; a familiarity and a knowledge that Dairon is entirely unfamiliar with.

“No,” they respond, quickly and honestly, and Beauregard pauses in the midst of wiping the back of hand across her face to meet their eyes again. It is a practiced motion and. “What do you want to do, now that it has happened?”

“I kinda want to fuckin’ punch you back,” Beauregard answers, and it’s just as honest, if not blunt.

“Then do it.”

It is a challenge, now, a tease almost. To see if the girl will jump so readily to respond physically as she has verbally in the past.

Instead, Beauregard’s eyes narrow, ever so slightly, confusion mixing in with the incredulity. There is a slight lifting of her shoulder and a hitch in the tension, a kind of ‘that isn’t how this works,’ seeming to drift across her thoughts and through her expression. Dairon waits a moment, expectantly, letting her process that they really do want Beauregard to strike back.

Beauregard shifts, not forward. But back. Her arms lower, hands going down by her sides and behind her back. Her chin falls and the rest of her head with it, eyes dipping back and forth between the ground and the corner of Dairon’s eyes.

“What’s stopping you?”

Something is, because this. The deference with which Beau stands, the way she doesn’t look Dairon in the eyes. The slight rasp in her voice, the tempering of emotion in her words as she says: “Now you have my attention.”

There isn’t entirely a falseness to it, either, more rote-ness, as if this is a lesson Beau has learned by heart. Dairon realizes quite suddenly that it is. That someone has in fact taught Beauregard that _this_ is what authority looks like. That listening and paying attention are somehow things that involve physical force and a requirement of submission on Beau’s part. And then, it is no wonder that the girl has balked so harshly.

The blow, when Beau delivers it, is sloppy and rushed. There is a wild quality to it, as if trying to prove the validity of Dairon’s invitation to be struck. It is easily sidestepped, and Dairon brings her own fist back up and…waits. Tempers her strike instead to a less extreme knock to the back of Beau’s head.

The girl cringes as if it were a full blow nonetheless, an almost insulted look darting across her face as she blurts out “my dad used to do that kind of shit” and.

Dairon pauses, and recalibrates. Shifts around then and feints towards Beau’s chin in what would have been a vicious blow. The girl stiffens, and Dairon brings her opposite arm around with an elbow instead. Beau dodges, but only just, eyes wide as her body shifts and her hands come up into a proper defensive stance without her seeming to realize.

“Good,” Dairon encourages, because that is much better. That is what they want to see, not. Whatever Beau had been before.

But Beau seems to hesitate then, dropping her defense as Dairon slides into their own, eyes shifting uncertain and yet expectant at the same time, waiting for some kind of retaliation.

“Come on,” Dairon pokes, lifting their chin to add to the provocation.

Beau grits her teeth and Dairon can see the shift of determination behind her eyes. They grin, just a bit, and lower their guard just as Beau rushes forward. Perhaps uncalled for, perhaps not, but they can sense that the girl needs this, even if she hasn’t quite realized it yet. The blows are quick and brutal when they come, far stronger than what Dairon had initially expected, but perhaps that was on them for their brief assumption.

“Very good,” they manage, when their ears had stopped ringing and Beau had dropped her arms again, eyes wide at her own audacity. “So you have learned something in your time.”

And they press forward, and Beau flinches back once again.

It is an odd parody of a dance, the fight lacking the usual grace that sessions like these required. But by the end of it, Beau is grinning and determined, and Dairon is determined of two things.

They will make something of this Beauregard yet.

And her father will never lay hands on her again.

**Author's Note:**

> This episode destroyed me in all the best and worst ways. Having had experience with toxic and abusive parents, and slowly coming to terms with said toxicity in my adulthood while not entirely being able to escape the aforementioned toxicity, this episode hurt. 
> 
> Seeing all of the comments from those who either didn't understand or who hadn't had similar experiences also hurt, as their skepticism and disbelief is where abusers tend to thrive, and is part of the reason why those who have been abused have such a hard time coming to terms with it and coping and healing. 
> 
> Everyone's feelings are valid, and this in no way is an attempt to put anyone down or deny anyone a voice. Especially in this community, and especially given the storylines and situations that we are exploring the heart of now. 
> 
> This is merely one of a few drabbles and thought processed I will be posting as part of this series and as we delve into everything that these characters and these people keep throwing at us. 
> 
> Please everybody be safe, and let's not forget to love each other.


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